


Supersonic Man

by all_of_the_trash



Series: It's a Hard Life [1]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Gen, Pre-Slash, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 03:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16590176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_of_the_trash/pseuds/all_of_the_trash
Summary: Roger comes out of a closet he wasn't aware that he was in. Loosely based on my own experiences.//mild transphobia, his friends are idiots but they love him, none of it is meanspirited they're just not good communicators.





	Supersonic Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [doctorkilljoy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkilljoy/gifts).



> You can blame Alice for my actually finishing this. I'm just as surprised as you are.
> 
> Based on an experience where, for about two months, I was stealth at a new job. I wasn't trying to be, just figured that people would look at me and instantly guess I wasn't cis. So I never brought it up until my mom accidentally outed me and everyone was like "wait what?"
> 
> But enough about my life, you're here for Queen.

“Rog, darling,” Freddie drawled in that familiar way that meant he was about to say something extremely inappropriate, “if your bollocks ever decide to drop, our band's sound is fucked.”

And there it was. Roger collapsed down into the loveseat, doing his best to wedge himself between Brian and John as they laughed. Well, as Roger and John did. Brian stared at Roger as he waited for the joke to die down before questioning, “Roger, you're past 20. When  _ are _ you going to hit puberty?”

He wanted to laugh. But if Bri was joking, it would have been obvious and far less funny. He couldn't actually be serious, could he? “Nine years ago. You know, like a normal human. The fuck's wrong with you?” Roger punctuated that last bit by crossing his legs and giving John a ‘can you believe this guy’ look. Brian was evidently not having it, reaching across to lay a hand on Roger's jaw and pull his face back towards him. Roger batted his eyelashes with a frown. “Is this the part where you kiss me, Bri?”

Brian stroked at Roger's cheek and jaw far too long and intimately to be comfortable, all with a pensive expression crossing his dark eyes. “Incredible,” he murmured finally. “You don't even have peach fuzz. Rog, have you ever even shaved?”

“Not my face,” he said like it was obvious. Shouldn't it have been? Apparently not, judging by the other three's expressions. “I mean I used to shave my legs, but who hasn't?”

“I haven't,” replied Brian and John. Freddie just shrugged and muttered “not worth the hassle.” There was a pause after that last bit as Freddie continued “what would you expect of me?”

Brian shook his head as if to shake off the idea of Freddie shaving his legs. His hair bounced amusingly as he did. Soon though, he turned back to Roger. “That… notwithstanding, I think you should see an endocrinologist. You must have a serious hormonal imbalance, and it could cause you medical problems in the future if it hasn't already.”

Roger huffed and crossed his arms, looking dramatically up at the ceiling. “My hormones are perfectly balanced, thank you very much.”

“They can't be Rog, look at you!”

“Tell me something, darling, have you ever even had an erection?” Freddie asked far too calmly.

“Bugger off, Bulsara.”

John shifted next to Roger. “Well, I mean, have you?”

“No! How the fuck would I?” Seriously, what were these idiots going on about?

That was evidently the wrong answer. If this weren't mortifying, it would have been amusing to watch their reactions. Freddie commented under his breath, something about not believing he hadn't caused one. John turned his head slowly to glare at the lot of them, and Brian may have actually screamed and nearly fallen off the arm of the loveseat where he was perched.

“That's it, I'm taking you to the endocrine school right now, and we're talking to a doctor. This is not natural for a man your age-”

“I'VE ALREADY SPOKEN TO ONE, YOU SOD, I DECIDED NOT TO GO THROUGH WITH IT.”

An awkward and heavy stillness fell over the room. “Go through with what, my dear?”

Roger willed his rage to go down. He knew that was a gender-neutral term of endearment when it came from Freddie, but he'd heard it too many times with the wrong connotation to feel comforted by it. After a deep breath he managed to squeak out, “hormones. You know. Wasn't it obvious?” The confused silence indicated that it was, in fact, not. “I'm transgender, you guys.”

“So… you want to be a woman? Is that what you're saying?” John questioned to break the silence.

Roger sighed. He'd been a little afraid of this- his friends being well-intentioned but clueless. Just once, he'd like to know someone who understood him without his having to explain everything about his life. “No. I mean, maybe I did once. Just to make it simpler, but no.”

“You want to be a man?”

“DAMN IT ALL, I DON'T-” he steeled himself with a breath. These were his friends, they loved him, they just weren't great at expressing it at the moment. “I don't want to be anything. I just am. A man, that is. Just a little different.”

Freddie had crept closer to the loveseat over the past few minutes and was now staring up from between Brian and Roger's legs, resting his cheek against Roger's knee. The drummer felt a twinge of sadness, reveling in the casual intimacy and fearing that it would end once the truth was out. He did his best not to flinch when Freddie asked “different how, dear? I just want to understand you.”

“I don't like the term, but I guess I'm what they'd call female-to-male. Uh, FTM.”

The earth didn't shatter. The mention of the acronym didn't cause the world to stop turning. Freddie blinked the confusion away from his sparkling brown eyes, John shifted slightly to be closer to the others, Brian tucked his knees up to his chest like he did whenever the gears in his head started spinning in a new direction. “Why don't you like the term?” Brian asked excitedly.

Roger smiled inwardly. It was so typical of Brian to get technical and break down all the details right away, but at the same time, it was his best way of showing he cared. Roger loved him for it. “I hate the connotations,” he shrugged. “First of all, I didn't change from a female into anything, I was born a man same as the rest of you. Not my fault doctor saw a fud and got confused. Second it's so clinical. It's barely a step above being called a transsexual, like you're just a page in the DSM instead of a person.” He shrugged and deepened his voice like the act could shake away the thoughts flooding his brain. “There's also some real nasty guys who exclusively call themselves FTMs, and I don't particularly like being associated with them. And judging from the things some of them have called me, the feeling's mutual.”

He'd half expected someone to ask him to expand on that, and was instantly glad when none of them did. Unfortunately the silence fell a little too heavy. “Alright, I expect you all have borderline-inappropriate questions, so go ahead and ask while I won't get mad.”

“Why don't you want to take testosterone?” Freddie asked softly.

Roger shrugged. “To be honest? I didn't want my voice to change. I can talk low enough when I need to, and that's what matters. Don't wanna lose my range.”

“What was your name? Before?”

“I appreciate your asking nicely, Deaks, but never ask anyone that. If they want you to know, they'll tell you on their own terms.” Roger took a deep breath and looked at the other three's wide eyes before adding, “not that I don't trust all of you with my life, but that's just something I'd rather no one know. Hell, I would forget if I could.”

There was a brief muttered “sorry” from John's direction, which Roger answered with a brief pat on his knee. That seemed to pacify him well enough- it's not that John felt any less affectionate than the others; he was just less physical.

“Bri, your turn for a stupid invasive question.” Brian looked scandalized until Roger giggled and softly kicked at his ankle. The motion jarred Freddie, however, who made an adorable noise not unlike a cat makes when unexpectedly petted.

“Alright, fine, when did you know? That you were a man, that is.” Brian finally managed.

“Hard to say, really,” Roger sighed. “I guess there were signs along the way, but I wasn't sure until I was about 12.”

“So when puberty hit?”

God, Brian was practically buzzing the way he always was when on the brink of an answer. It was so inhumanly adorable, Roger just wanted to bury his hands in that stupid fluffy hair and hold him tight to himself.

“Fuck yeah, you don't even know. Can you imagine what that's like, being so mildly uncomfortable your whole life but not being able to place it? Then one day you blink and everything's 100% wrong and right out in the open. Like before, it's like walking into a room and everything’s a centimetre to the left of where it should be. But then the very next day you walk back in and it's upside down, everything's on the ceiling and about to crash down and you've got tits and PMS and people telling you ‘what a pretty little bird you grew into’...” Roger took a steadying breath to calm his wavering voice. “It definitely cleared some things up, that's for sure.”

“What happened to your tits?”

On the other side, John sputtered obnoxiously. It was a really intoxicating sound for its rarity, and Roger found himself laughing along so hard he nearly kicked Freddie, who was the only one trying to keep composure. “Nice going, May,” Roger managed to choke out, “I knew you had an inappropriate question somewhere in you!” The three of them laughed as Brian's face reddened deeply, mortified.

“I had ‘em cut off,” Roger finally explained. “Not that they were huge to begin with, but it was enough to bother me. Years of drumming shrunk ‘em down to the point where I could get keyholes- that's what they call it when they suck the fat out from a tiny hole right under the nipple. Barely even leaves a scar. And since it counts as affirming surgery, I got my gender marker and name changed without nearly as much hassle as I expected.”

“So you can feel this, right?” Was all the warning he got before John reached across and flicked him hard on the nipple.

“JOHN RICHARD DEACON, I AM GOING TO KICK YOUR ARSE INTO NEXT WEEK.”

Fuck, it was worth the pain to hear Deaky laugh like that. Almost. That bloody hurt, alright? His laugh spread through the other three, getting Freddie to stand up and immediately flop back down across all their laps. “What made you pick your name?” he asked from in between Brian's thighs.

“I let my mum pick it out.”

“You're adorable.” Roger didn't dignify that with a response other than flicking Freddie's nose. Softly, because unlike Deaky, he wasn't a sociopath. He was rewarded with a smile that showed off far too many teeth and could have melted glass with its warmth.

“I swear I never meant to hide anything from you lot,” Roger began sheepishly. “I never said anything before now because, well, I thought you knew. I don't go through a lot of trouble to hide it, since it's the first thing most anybody notices no matter what I do.”

“I can honestly say it never crossed my mind before now. Thought you were just… very comfortable in your masculinity.”

“Well, you're not wrong Bri. But I didn't get there by accident.”

Brian responded by wrapping an arm over Roger's shoulders and halfway across John's back. John jumped at the contact but leaned into Roger, burying his face in the junction of his shoulder.

“This doesn't change anything, darling,” Freddie crooned as he reached for Roger's hand and linked their fingers, “I hope you know. We already loved you before now, and nothing can change that.”

Roger stroked his thumb against Freddie’s with a soft smile. “You mean it? I'm stuck with you idiots forever?”

“Of course. Until the end of time.”


End file.
